


The Pearl's curse

by Irit



Category: Mythica
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11586027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irit/pseuds/Irit
Summary: In order to get a component for his spell the wizard makes a deal.





	The Pearl's curse

**Author's Note:**

> The names of the original Red Thorns are taken from [The Wizards of Thorne](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11293143) by FloppyJaloppy with gratitude and respect.

The whorehouse stood a stone throw away from the main road that curved around the lake. There was also a shorter path from the city, through the woods along the other side of the lake, for those who wanted to avoid attention to their visit bad enough to risk meeting some unsavoury characters through the seedy part of the city or under the dark pine branches. Gojun chose that shorter path, just to be on the safe side.

The air inside hung heavy with the smells of cheap ale, cloyingly-sweet perfumes, and hot bodies. Gojun pushed back his hood and was met with a calculating look from the madam. His clothes had seen better days but were clean and his demeanor didn't promise trouble. That warranted him a smile, as false as it was sweet.

"What can we offer you today, good sir? You don't look to be from around here. Would you like to see the whole selection? Or you can describe me your taste and I'm sure I'll find something to your liking..." The woman bent toward him a little, which almost spilled her ample bosom from her half-laced corset.

Gojun ignored it and moved closer to her, lowering his voice.

“There's a rumor you have an elf...”

The madam pursed her heavily painted lips for a moment then leaned back and smiled again.

“'Tis not a rumor. Sunpearl is the jewel of my collection. And you sure know jewels don't come cheap…”

The price she named could feed Gojun for a week. But he came prepared and bargained just enough to create an impression that his lust eventually won over his greed. The madam swiped his coins from the table and gestured to the low cots around the room.

“One drink’s on the house.”

“I don't have much time.”

The woman fidgeted in her seat and wanted to say something then glanced up and relaxed. Gojun followed her gaze to see a thick man coming downstairs from the upper floor. He came to the table and handed something small and shiny to the madam. She took it and held it out for Gojun.

“What, the next one right away?” the man chortled. “Sorry, mate, I've roughed up the long-eared shit quite a bit. But don't you worry, there's plenty left, those elves are fyking resilient.”

There was something odd about the way the man held his head when he exited the room; but Gojun was indeed lacking time so he put the notion away. The shiny object in his hand was a key, too small for a door. Going up the stairs Gojun mused if the madam protected her merchandise by a special belt the likes of which he saw in an ancient scroll.

  


The room he entered was flooded by the amber light of the setting sun. Gojun squinted against it then blinked in surprise - Sunpearl the elf was a male. Sitting gracefully on a cot to the other side of the room from the rumpled bed, he looked indeed like a jewel - set in a pitifully crude pewter bracelet. The only other intricate thing in the room was a mask-like contraption on his face.

At the creak of the door the elf turned his head from the window and held out his hand in such a regal manner that Gojun tossed him the key before he could think better of it. The elf caught it - or rather took it from the air, - slotted it into the lock of his mask, took the contraption off, and dropped it to the floor. He didn't seem damaged in any way. If anything, he looked magnificent; but then again, his entire race looked beautiful to most humans.

The elf licked his full lips and looked at Gojun with a seductive smile,

“Tell me what do you desire from me?”

“Seven drops of your blood,' Gojun said with readiness that felt anything but natural.

The elf slowly arched his perfect golden eyebrow.

“That is new,” he murmured, 'And what do you want with my blood, pray tell?”

Gojun smiled, shutting the door behind his back and moving deeper into the room.

“I've found a promising elven manuscript but it's blood-encrypted. A potion to unlock the cipher needs three drops of elven blood.”

“And the rest?..”

“I know two decrypting potions. The other three drops are in case the first one won't work and a drop for the spell on the vial to keep the blood fresh. And also I'm interested to learn who furnished you with that curse.”

The elf's seductive smile did not waver but his grey eyes pierced Gojun before being shaded with long lashes.

“What are you talking about?”

“Is that a side-effect or has your time among humans frayed your ability to deceive?” Gojun asked mildly. “I know a curse when I see it, let alone feel it on my own self. ‘The silver tongue’ also known as ‘the Pearl's curse’, named after a ruler's impudent child who then caused a war that ended their empire. Was that why you chose such a name for yourself here?”

The smile was gone entirely now and the elf looked sharply at the man.

“I can make you forget all that, are you aware?”

“You can try,” Gojun allowed himself a small smile. “I'm a wizard, as you've probably guessed by now. Every time you use your voice on me, I can resist it more; and in a short while anything you may implant in my mind will dissipate.”

The elf watched him thoughtfully.

“I did not know that. You are the first human wizard I have met.”

“Yeah, we're not in high fashion lately,” the man chuckled ruefully.

The elf's short half-smile looked much more genuine. He patted the cot next to him.

“Come, sit, and tell me about that manuscript of yours.”

Gojun kept still long enough to show the elf he indeed could resist the command, then went and took the far end of the cot.

“I've bought it from a scavenger who knows I look for remnants of the old world.”

“For all you know, it may contain a recipe for turnip soup,” the elf shrugged gracefully.

Gojun smiled.

“In that case I'll sell it to a cook I know, whose master is mad about elven cuisine.”

“How very opportunistic of you,” the elf said with caustic irony but an approving nod. “Alright then.” He stood up and went to a dresser, bending over it to take something from a bottom drawer.

Gojun looked away from the thin robe hugging the curve of elf's taut buttocks and saw a thin chain that snaked across the floor. One end of the chain disappeared under the bed and the other was fastened to a thin cuff around the elf's ankle. Both the chain and the cuff looked deceptively fragile but the wizard knew dwarfish work and could see runes of the cuff.

“I can free you,” he said on an impulse.

The elf straightened and turned to scrutinize him with his calm grey eyes.

“And then what? Will you escort me across the vast lands to restore me to my rightful place in the society or some such fyke?” he turned away again, this time to get a small crystal decanter from behind a row of cheap wine bottles and pour red-amber liquid in a small glass.

Gojun smelled a waft of autumn berries and his mouth watered as the memories of nights he had drunk the Harvest wine came flooding his mind. Only the elf's curse-laden voice kept him from being swept by the aroma of the wine he knew to be at least a hundred years old.

“I'm not a captive prince if you think along these lines,” the elf said, returning to the cot with the glass and a leather case the size of his palm.

“I've never met a High Elf who didn't act like a royalty.”

The elf grimaced.

“You are not wrong. My kind is... was arrogant to a fault. Or should I say, to their downfall. Where is that vial of yours?”

“Here,” Gojun rummaged in his inner pocket to fish out the tiny bespelled bottle.

“My sister put the curse on me,” the elf said in a low detached voice, watching him. “She believed I was in a habit of speaking with disregard to consequences of my words. So she made sure I have those consequences immediate and aplenty. But in that arrogance common to our people she neglected to warn me about my new... ability. The result of that was why I chose self-exile, not the curse itself.”

“So you're punishing yourself by staying here?”

“I am safe here,” the elf said, meeting the wizard's blue eyes. “And the world is safe from me.”

'The man before me said he hurt you.”

“Oh but he thought he did,” the elf's smile was smug and unpleasant but quickly dimmed around the edges. “Were he to have his way, I would have needed a week to recover.”

“Is that what you do? Make men believe they did things to you?”

“Women too,” the elf said absentmindedly, fighting a stubborn knot on the leather cord around the case. “But yes, quite so.”

“What if someone decides to keep... that thing on you,” Gojun nodded at the discarded mask or, rather, muzzle.

The elf glanced up at him with a smile mixed of mischief and arrogance.

“Cover your ears as best as you can.”

The wizard obeyed the command and watched the elf press his lips together as the mask kept them. Then his throat worked. It wasn't a sound Gojun could hear but he definitely felt it - like a cold iron band constricting his head; his temples throbbed and his eyesight threaten to black out. Then it was gone and left only slight ringing in his ears. Gojun shook his head carefully and pressed his fingertips to his forehead for a moment. It reminded him of an adventure years back when the Red Thorns battled a cave monster with huge leathery wings that ravaged a nearby village. Beketh fell unconsciousness under the creature's direct inaudible attack and suffered excruciating headaches for a month afterwards.

The elf's smile turned smug again.

“They only need to come through the door, the chain is long enough. And then they would leave remembering that they did whatever they wanted with me still muzzled.”

“The madam's afraid of you.”

The elf snorted inelegantly.

“She would be stupid not to be. But she is clever enough to curb it and pretend the muzzle is enough. Gold I earn helps with that. Speaking of which...” he finally untied the knot, unrolled the case, and took a small blade out of it.

Gojun looked at the half of dozen more of them, viscously gleaming in a row against the dark leather, and he, a battle-hardened magician, fought a shiver.

“Did anybody?..”

“Use it on me?” elf dipped the tip of the blade into the liquor in the glass and chuckled darkly, “In their dreams. Literally. And I used it on some. Do not ask,” he cut Gojun off with enough power in his voice to actually silence the man. Then he winced. “My apologies. But truly you would not want to know those fantasies. Now, does your cipher spell have any preferences as to the body part the blood should be drawn from?”

With his free hand the elf stroked down his chest and Gojun looked away from his provocative smile and the innocent gesture effortlessly made lewd.

“A finger would suffice.”

“Here you go then,” the elf held out the blade to him, any trace of lewdness gone and replaced with cold distant bitterness. “My sister cared for me very much, you see. She made sure I would not be able to harm myself, even in the most minuscule ways.”

Gojun took the small blade carefully and uncorked the vial.

“Was she afraid you might cut your tongue out?”

The elf gave him another shrug, graceful and defiant, and held out his hand palm up.

“Perhaps.”

The wizard took his little finger, stabbed it with the blade and squeezed the necessary number of drops into the vial as the blood welled on the pale skin. When he was done, he corked the small bottle and watched the elf dip his finger into the glass and lick the mixture of blood and wine off his finger. There was an opportunity to make it intensely lewd as well, yet the elf looked absentminded again, and when Gojun shifted to hide the vial, the elf looked at him with some amusement as if he didn't expect the man to still be there.

“I paid for two hours,” the wizard said softly in explanation. “I can leave now but I doubt the madam will allow you to leisure away the rest of the time.”

“True,” the elf tilted his head to one shoulder. “So very generous and thoughtful of you.”

Gojun chuckled.

“Well, I thought it might come some way to endear you to my unconventional request.”

“And by 'to endear' you mean 'not to gut you on the spot',” the elf gave him a predatory grin and the next moment all humor was gone from his thoughtful eyes. “I guess you have found yourself the only elf suitable for the task.”

The actual seeking spell cast by Gojun had been aimed for the nearest pure-blooded elf. And when instead of the Great Forest the flames had showed him the interior of a whorehouse two-day journey away from him, the wizard thought he was in luck. Although now he wished he also had glimpsed if not the elf's gender than at least mercurial temper. His mood swings were almost dizzying in their swiftness. Years back Gojun had shared his path with an elf for a short while and she had been prone to moods as well but lasted longer between changes. Though it could be because she was of the Forest Tribe... She was also the last person he shared the Harvest wine with...

He blinked and saw that the elf was holding the glass and blowing softly over it in his direction.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You are an interesting man to watch. You amuse me,” the elf said frankly. “Most of the man I meet only disgust me. And you look like a decent person and a rather handsome one for a human.” He wanted to add something then seemingly changed his choice of words. “Will you tell me your name?”

Smiling at this non-order, the wizard bowed his head ceremoniously.

“Gojun Pye, at your service.:

The elf widened his eyes almost comically.

“Of the Red Thorns?! I though all of you were dead already!”

“You've heard of us?” Gojun was surprised as much as the elf looked.

“Here and there,” the elf shrugged, suddenly looking bored, and then sighed. “Also the madam mentioned the Order. A Red Thorn named Hunin spent a week here drinking through the wine cellar and whoring through the ‘selection’. It was some years ago, before my time. She said his friend was dead and it was his way to overcome his grief. The peculiar thing is that although she is as full of venom as the next woman of her occupation, she speaks of that wizard with something resembling respect. And awe, of course, because that week he spent what she usually made in three months.” The elf peered at the wizards whose head was bowed and blue eyes shaded with his bangs and lost in reveries. “She also thought that his grief looked like they could be more than friends?..”

It must've been when Rynar died in that cave, slain by the orcs as he stood to protect his quarter of the Dark Spore. Gojun sent him there and Hunin never forgave him for that. Soon after that Beketh was killed and that was the end of the Red Thorns.

Gojun took a deep breath and put the memories away where they belonged. If the elf waited for some illicit details of the Order's past glorious days, he could wait until the gods came done to earth.

But the elf looked neither lewd nor mocking. If anything, he seemed pensive and hesitant.

“What is it?” Gojun asked.

“As I have said, you look like a decent person...”

“And a handsome one at that, what of it?”

Actual blush sprung up on the elf's cheeks, making him look young, and vulnerable, and shy, and wounded. Even knowing that this whore was probably twice his age and conniving as they came, Gojun couldn't help but regret his cutting tone.

“Say what you want to say,” he prompted softly.

The elf stared at the window with longing in his gaze then down at his lap.

“I actually enjoy bedding men,” he said simply, his voice utterly devoid of any traces of the seductive purr. “But not the men that come here, you understand. You are the first in a long time...”

Had he gazed at him entreatingly or coyly, Gojun would've never had even a thought of giving in. But when the elf looked up, the grey eyes were clear and sad, and, yes, vulnerable. Silently cursing his soft-heartedness, the wizard brushed his greying bangs from his forehead.

“I wish I could help you but I don't... have this predilection...”

A string of emotions rippled over the elf's face: doubt, hope, joy and playfulness chased one another like twinkling reflections on a windy lake. Then suddenly the grey eyes were so very close to Gojun, shining with flecks of sunlight.

“If you truly mean that, I can help. Only for today.”

“I...” He could get up and leave, return to his den to get on with the cypher, hoping to gain some obscure elven wisdom from the era long gone, and never think about a cursed whore cowering in self-exile. His hero days were left far behind him. He couldn't help everyone who suffered — that he had learned in hard and painful lessons that left scars on his soul as well as his body.

But maybe he could ease that one life, even a little.

“Yes.”

The elf's fingers felt cool when he took the wizard’s hand.

“Only for today, Gojun Pye,” the soft voice was like a touch of warm sun, and summer breeze, and the softest grass, “Only for today you desire me.”

The wizard run his fingers through the golden silk of the elf's hair, leaned in, and kissed him. His lips were soft, with barely-there taste of the wine; it wasn't unpleasant. And then the elf keened softy into his mouth and Gojun felt the heat unfurling in his lower belly. But he let the slender form go when the elf leaned away from him.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” the elf whispered, his eyes closed and breath uneven. “It is just... I have not been touched for so long it now hurts. Hold... Will you please hold me?”

The surge to grab the elf and crush him in an embrace was powerful but Gojun fought it and tried to make his hold sure but gentle. The elf hid his face in the crook of the man’s neck and stilled for several moments under Gojun’s hand stroking through his locks. Then the man felt a soft touch of lips, and a small lick, and a gentle bite to the spot just behind his ear that never failed to produce a sweet shiver. Without him noticing the elf had managed to undo the fastenings of his tunic and now run his fingertips over Gojun's collarbones. It felt like he left tiny lightning sparks in the wake of his touch. Unable to resist any longer, the man brought their lips together again and revelled in the way the elf was so pliant in his arms.

“Will you come to bed with me?” the elf murmured between deep kisses.

“Yes.” At the moment Gojun would've agreed to anything, even not voiced as an order. His skin burned hot for the relief of the elf's cool caress; he would've done much to make the sun flecks in the grey eyes shine brighter.

The elf rose and pulled him up from the cot. As they stood chest to chest, the wizard unexpectedly discovered that the elf was almost as tall as him and his shoulders were as broad. The narrow hips and slender bones of his kind made him look lean but Gojun knew he must be strong, and this thought brought him another surprising flare of desire. Then the elf shrugged off his robes and for a while nothing existed for Gojun but his golden skin, tight heat, and breathy cries that spurred his own pleasure to the long-forgotten heights.

  


“How is it you stay so cool to the touch even in the throes of passion?”

“Not enough sun to warm me through,” the elf said distractedly before he shifted from resting his head on the man's shoulder.

Gojun caught him by the arm, tugged him closer, and languidly kissed his lips and then, gently, his damp eyelashes.

“I wish I could do more for you...”

The elf smiled down at him, effortlessly writhed himself free from the man's hands, and went to the dresser, entirely unselfconscious about his nudity.

“I wish you could too,” he said over clinking of glass. “But unless you are a god in disguise, you can't turn back time and uncrumble empires or bring back the golden era of the blessings of the gods... or make my kind less of arrogant fykes. Or even be born a couple of hundred years sooner. Can you?”

“I can't,” Gojun smiled. “My sincere apologies.”

'Excepted,' the elf returned with two small glasses and the aroma of the Harvest wine filled the room once more. “Your health, Gojun Pye.”

The wizard accepted the glass reverently and sipped the thick liquor. It tasted the way he remembered and more - of ripe fruits and berries and crisp autumn air, richness of earth and darkness of starry nights warmed by holy fires. The small glass was empty too soon and when Gojun opened his eyes he saw the elf watching him as he lapped the wine from his own glass like a cat would.

“Which one was with the trace of blood from your finger?” the man asked on a belated thought.

In answer the elf tilted his glass slightly before putting it aside.

“This one. Something much worse must happen to me before I stoop so low as to resort to the blood magic. Also it would not be fair of me, to bind you to me this way,” he stretched alongside the man and traced the scars on his broad chest with his fingertips, smiling coyly. “Not after you went to such length to comfort a sad little elf.”

Gojun barked out a laughter.

“Little?! The only little thing in you is your modesty!”

The elf propped himself on one elbow and looked down at the man with something close to tenderness.

“I am a whore, good sir. Modesty doesn't pay.” He dipped his head, brushing the man's face with his silken hair, and their lips met, the taste of the wine still on their tongues.

Pleasure swept through Gojun, unlike anything he'd ever felt before, strangely intense and so very different... He gasped for air when the elf broke the kiss.

“I forgot...”

“Hmm?”

“That the Harvest wine, when shared, can give a glimpse of the nearest future.”

“I take it you like what you have glimpsed?” The elf arched his brow with a glance down the man's body.

Gojun laughed a little, fighting not to feel embarrassment, which was ridiculous in his age and with his experience.

“As it happens, I do.”

“Good,” the elf drawled long and sweet, sliding lower along him to lick at his hardened nipple. “Because I wonder if you allow me to show you why I so enjoy bedding men.”

Between his head swimming lightly from the wine and the elf's hands caressing his body, it took Gojun a moment to catch up on his meaning. Caution that saved his life so many times rose at the back of his mind but the elf waited patiently for his answer instead of simply ordering him to agree...

“What do you want me to do?”

It was worth it just for the joyous smile that blossomed on the elf's handsome face.

“I want you to relax,” he murmured, still not a command. Then he turned Gojun onto his stomach with no effort whatsoever and kissed a slow trail down his spine.

The Harvest wine was an artifact of its own merit, Gojun thought languidly while his body arched under the elf's ministrations. Any other tincture or potion put in it, be it a poison or an aphrodisiac, the wine would render ineffective. It had been one of the reasons they had served only that drink during any negotiations and festivities at the High Elven Court. And the hold of the curse was not that strong on him...if he didn't count the elf's moans which acted like a delicious spell... as well as the exquisite things he did with his lips and tongue... Gojun exhaled a low groan at the sensation of intrusion and distantly wished he understood the words caressing the back of his head in a breathy stream. Apparently unable to keep silent yet unwilling to feed the curse, the elf resorted to a High dialect so ancient Gojun knew only its written form. It sounded like a song and he allowed it to carry him away until the sensation of the prophesy fulfilled merged with the uncoiling heat and tipped him over the edge of bliss.

  


“How is it you have never been with a man? Not even some frolicking with the fellow Order initiates?”

“Studied too hard, I guess,” the man rasped, his body still boneless and heavy and his thoughts sluggish.

The elf brought him a goblet of cool water and tended to him with a damp cloth before Gojun could think to ask for any of those.

“I'm getting too old for this.” He realized he said it aloud only after the elf swatted at his hip.

“Nonsense. You are in a quite descent shape.”

“For my age?”

“For a retired hero. Humans of that line of occupation rarely have a chance to age.”

“And how old are you?”

The elf's gaze sharpened at the innocent question.

“Why?”

“I wonder if it's an age thing or a race thing,” Gojun looked pointedly at where the elf was already at half-mast again. “I'm getting envious here.”

The elf laughed and it was a deep velvet sound, pleased and very masculine. Apparently in that regard their races didn't differ that much.

“You can take it as a compliment,” he dropped the cloth and crawled the bed on all fours, graceful as a predator, until his face was over the wizard's groin, and then he lowered his shoulders slowly and lapped at the man, keeping eye contact the entire time.

“Unless you too can cast a spell...” Gojun started but with another long lick from the elf he dropped his head on the pillow and groaned as his spent flesh twitched on a renewed pulse of heat.

“There is something in the water you have drunk,” the elf confided slyly, his eyes dark and deep and his lips bright and moist. “No lasting effects, you have my word... for what it's worth. I just want to make the most of the remaining time...”

Scrambling together the shreds first of his wits then of his strength, Gojun whispered a boosting word, sat up, tugged the elf to himself and flipped them so the elf ended up stretched on his back under the man.

“I wish you didn't need to do that. You are beautiful, and strong, and smart. You deserve so much better.”

Under his gaze a shudder coursed through the lean body and when the elf opened his eyes, tears welled up in them.

“You are only saying it because I have made you to,” he breathed out hoarsely.

“That's not true,” Gojun put all his conviction into his words. “I'm a wizard, remember? Even your curse can't enthrall me that deeply.”

Under his caress the elf took a deep shaking breath and granted him a watery smile.

“I wager you have bested more adversaries with your honeyed talk than your battle staff.”

“As was said by a prophet from a faraway land, to speak the truth is easy and pleasant. And I assure you, I've put my staff to good use enough times,” Gojun answered his smile with just the right hint of indecency in his nonchalant tone and watched with satisfaction the sun sparks rekindling in the elf's eyes.

The next moment he was sprawled face up on the sheets yet again, with no inkling of how it happened, and the elf hovered over him, his smirk a mix of coy and hungry.

“I thank you for your kind words, Gojun Pye,” he said with a peculiarly ritualistic cadence and then grinned, showing white teeth that for a moment seemed too sharp. “And I like your voice very much. I want to hear more of it.”

He licked his lips and dove down to the man's groin, and with what his fingers and mouth did, Gojun had no hardship at all in providing him with the sound of his voice. Especially with the little moans the elf managed to slot between deep breaths and the small sounds he made even when no sound should've been possible. And what finally did Gojun in was the unmistakable feeling that the elf gained almost as much - if not more - pleasure from it as he brought to the man. Afterwards Gojun pulled him up, wrapped his palm around the elf's hard flesh, and gently bit the pointed ear tip. He held the elf when his body went taut in a violent soundless release then slumped in as violent shuddering sobs, muffled in the wizard's shoulder. For a while he drifted with the lean form, still inexplicably cool, in his embrace.

  


When the elf moved away from him, Gojun blinked his eyes open with an effort and reached for the goblet with full expectation of his weak hand to shake. The elf gracefully snatched the goblet out of his reach.

“Alas, no more of that for you.”

“Ah. Yes.”

He drunk deeply from another goblet the elf brought, clear water this time.

“I can look for some bolstering tonic,” the elf offered, “Although anything I can find here will be very crude and awful tasting to boot.”

“I'll be fine,” Gojun said, pushing himself up to sit.

The sun was gone from the sky and even its last light long drowned behind the trees. Gojun hadn't noticed when it happened or when the elf lit several lamps. In their amber light he looked serene if not satiated.

“Your time is up,” he said softly, coming to the bed with the man's tunic.

His touches were feather-light when he helped Gojun dress. But the wizard seized every chance to caress the smooth skin even though he knew only too well it could not be saved up.

When the elf fastened his belt and turned to gather his own robes, Gojun silently slipped several heavy gold coins under his pillow and took another drink from the goblet.

“Do you have a place to rest in the city?” the elf asked, his fraying silks like armor over his broad shoulders.

“I'll be fine,” the wizard said again.

The elf stepped closer to him and looked deeply into his eyes, his own pupils blown wide and dark.

“Do you trust me?”

It could still be the curse talking but the answer came easily.

“Yes.”

The elf took his face on his cool palms and stroked his age-lined cheeks with his thumbs.

“Listen to me, Gojun Pye, wizard, hero of the realm. When you leave this room, be rested, strong, and alert on your journey. When you reach your dwelling, eat your fill and rest well. Have good dreams.”

“Thank you,” Gojun said softly before he kissed each smooth palm.

The elf smiled at him and turned away, walking across the room slowly. His silver chain rustled against the floor. The wizard absently checked the vial in his inner pocket and wanted to repeat his earlier offer but watched how calmly the elf took his mask from the floor and lifted it to his face. So he asked another question.

“The wine... Will you tell me whether you saw something?”

The elf looked up at him from where he sat, regal as if his cot was a throne.

“I saw that we will never meet again.”

With the shade of smile still on his full lips he put the mask on, took the key out and sent it flying toward Gojun. The man caught it and bowed his head, chasing away sadness of his own.

“Goodbye.”

The elf smoothly moved his hand in the High Elven farewell and turned to the dark window. That used to be also a blessing in the name of a deity, Gojun remembered as he walked down the stairs. But he could not recall the name itself... And the elves did not gaze after those who were leaving, to make their path lighter.

“He would not entertain anyone else today,” Gojun said to the madam.

'”Not after we've all heard down here, for sure,” she scoffed.

Some silver added to the key made her grimace less sour and when the wizard was going to the door, he heard her shrill voice over the din, ordering to bring supper to the long-eared fyke. 

  


The night air was crisp and filled with the scent of the pines. Gojun inhaled a lungful and listened to himself for a moment before veering from the path to retrieve his staff hidden in the trees. The curse still held, the last portion of it at least. Though the memories of the elf's body arching against his also stirred warmth under his skin still.

A rustle under the brunches made the wizard's senses sharpen and the distracting thought flee. A dark figure appeared from behind a pine trunk. Another stepped from the shadows on the path behind Gojun, too far for a lunge for now.

“That's not a good idea,” Gojun said in a calm strong voice laced with just enough menace.

There came the odds: either he had been followed and they came for him personally, in which case even the curse wouldn't help his thoroughly depleted strength, or he could be in luck.

Gojun changed the grip on his staff and sent his power into it so the metal rings on the top shone and the inlaid runes run with ghostly blue light.

”You don't want to mess with a wizard.”

His words rung under the starlight with more power than he put in them. For a heartbeat Gojun thought he heard the elf's deep voice like an underlying echo tasting of berries and wind.

The dark figures silently disappeared between the trees. Gojun let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, run his hand through his tousled hair, and decided to take another chance. Lifting his stuff, he tapped its end against the ground, and a flush of black birds rose above the pines heading to a small town at the north.

  


It wasn't a soup recipe after all.

The first cypher didn't work but the second did. While the ornamental sigils were completing rearranging, Gojun crushed the vial regretfully under his boot heel and swept the glass dust away. The manuscript turned out to be a page from a lapidary's diary. It was an engaging read of a fascinating glimpse into the everyday life of a master craftsman of the golden era. But aside from a mention which veins - no doubt long exhausted - produced the best green topazes, it contained nothing of practical use. For a moment Gojun thought of throwing it into the hearth but then rolled it up carefully. He hated to discard any grain of knowledge, and besides, his new home, however temporary, didn't have nearly enough manuscripts to his liking. He smoothed the fragile edges of the scroll and stood up to put it onto one of his shelves. The residual soreness echoed in his lower back, making him chuckle and murmur a stance in High Elvish that resurfaced in his mind.

“As long as man learns new things, he does not age.”

“Is that a spell?” came a hesitant yet inquisitive voice over the creak of the door. “What does it do? Can you show me? Oh… shall I come later?”

“No, no, come on in.”

The girl was young, with curious eyes and crutch for her limp foot.

“Vagamal, the apothecary, sent you these herbs,” she put two leather pouches on the side table, all the while darting glances all around the cluttered room. “He said that would be two silvers. Are you really a wizard?”

“I am,” Gojun smiled, handing her the coins. “Are you his apprentice?”

“His slave,” the girl said gloomily with an insolent grimace then ducked her head and looked cautiously up at the man who could take her words back to her master and land her in trouble.

Gojun just smiled and the girl perked up, her cheekiness and curiosity rekindled.

“What were you saying when I came in, if not a spell?”

“A line from an old elven poem.”

“You know Elvish?! Oh, but of course you do. Can you teach me?!'

Her open eagerness was so contagious that Gojun found himself reaching for a scroll with a relatively simply written elven herbal. A crystal on the next shelf caught his eye. The druse was enchanted to detect dark magic and now dark-violet glow pulsed in it slowly.

“What's your name, child?” Gojun asked without turning.

“Marek. Can you show me how to cast a spell too?”

“I can try.”

Maybe his helping days weren't over just yet.


End file.
